


Helping Hand

by maryjanewatson



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 19:16:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9672467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryjanewatson/pseuds/maryjanewatson
Summary: Orgasms help you with period cramps, and Bucky is more than happy to help with that.





	

You woke up before your alarm, a familiar insistent pain in your lower abdomen and back preventing you from sleeping any further. You sighed unhappily, knowing what that meant.

 

Carefully getting up so as not to jostle your sleeping boyfriend, you lifted up your side of the covers to make sure you hadn't stained anything, and to your chagrin there was a noticeable stain right in the middle of the mattress. Heat crept up on your cheeks, the embarrassment of bleeding through your underwear right when Bucky stays the night making your stomach drop. There was no way to try and clean it up or remove the sheets with him still in bed, though, so you made your way to the bathroom to take a shower and get your tampons and hoped he wouldn't notice anything.

 

It was going to be a long few days.

 

Your periods have never been kind to you, and so you've always dreaded their arrival. You would bloat and swell the entire week leading up to it, your whole body would get sore, your emotions were all over the place, and you suffered from debilitating cramps.

 

Over the years you'd learned how to somewhat function despite all of that, but you hadn't been dating Bucky for that long, and you were apprehensive about his reaction to it. Most guys you'd dated couldn't even hear the word “period,” let alone help you with anything that it entailed, preferring to keep their distance until it was all over. And Bucky had lived mostly in the 1920s, 30s and 40s, when even fewer people would talk about this sort of thing, cringing whenever so-called Female Issues were alluded to.

 

The hot spray from the shower felt amazing on your aching belly, and you stayed under it for longer than necessary, and Bucky woke up confused not to find you in bed, as you'd always sleep later than he did.

 

He softly called your name, but you didn't hear it over the sounds of the water.

 

Bucky stretched, kicking the covers off of him as he did so, and idly thought about someday moving into an apartment with two bathrooms whenever you guys decided to live together, because his bladder was full and he knew you'd always lock the door if you were inside.

 

Something caught his eye as he was waiting, and he moved closer to inspect it. He saw the blood stain on the white sheet and immediately knew what it was, and the irrational part of his brain made him jump to conclusions and his stomach go cold. It was too big to have been from a paper cut, and still fresh. He didn't feel any pain, so the blood must've been yours. Were you okay? Had something happened? Had Hydra somehow found him and done something to you as payback?

 

He shot up in bed, loudly calling your name, and banged on the bathroom door.

 

“Y/N, are you in there? Open up!” He said, a little frantic.

 

The sound startled you, and you turned off the spray, wondering what was happening.

 

“Bucky?” You asked, wrapping a towel around yourself and opening the door.

 

He immediately burst in, scanning your body for injuries, and increasingly feeling stupid for overreacting the longer he went without finding any.

 

“You're okay,” He said, half-question, half-statement.

 

“Yeah, what's going on?”

 

He let go of you, running his hands through his sleep-tousled hair.

 

“There's blood on the mattress, I thought you were hurt.” He explained sheepishly.

 

Shit.

 

You hurried to the bedroom, clumsily removing everything from the bed and throwing it in the hamper, avoiding your boyfriend’s questioning gaze completely.

 

“Y/N?” He asked, ready to freak out again.

 

“It's nothing, I'll wash it, it's fine,” You rambled, mortified.

 

Bucky moved closer to you, resting his hand on your shoulder. “Whose blood was it?”

 

“Mine.”

 

“Why are you bleeding?”

 

“Because I'm on my… period,” You mumbled unintelligibly.

 

“You're what?”

 

“BecauseI’monmyperiodandIbledthroughmypantiesokay,” you jumbled the words together, hoping he wouldn't understand it and just drop the subject.

 

His mouth opened in an “o” shape, finally understanding the situation, and you were ready for him to take his hand off of you like you had leprosy and for the mood to get awkward, but instead Bucky laughed and kept his hand on your shoulder.

 

“Oh, that's what it is, thank God.” He relaxed. “I thought you'd been shot, or something.”

 

“Wait, you're not… grossed out by it?” You asked, confused.

 

“Grossed out?! Why would I ever be grossed out?” He asked as if you'd grown three heads.

 

“Well, guys usually are. You can’t even say the word and they're running for the hills.”

 

Bucky rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

“I grew up with a mom and three sisters, and I've had girlfriends before. You think this is my first rodeo?”

 

It wasn't often that he mentioned his life before Hydra, and you felt bad for inadvertently making him talk about it.

 

“Sorry.” You hung your head.

 

He could tell you were embarrassed, and wrapped an arm around you.

 

“It's no big deal. I'll tell you what, I'll go put these in the wash while you get dressed, and then we'll figure out something to do, deal?”

 

You nodded and kissed him on the lips, feeling silly for even thinking Bucky would be an immature little boy about it. Shit like this happens, and both of you have seen a lot grosser things before.

 

You got dressed in your most comfortable clothes, put your hair up in a messy bun, and grabbed your trusty hot water bottle, bringing it to the kitchen to fill up.

 

“You need me to run out and get you anything? Pads? Chocolate?” Bucky offered as he came back from the laundry room, smelling faintly of fabric softener.

 

“Nah, I have it all in the bathroom. Do me a favor, though? Can you get the Ibuprofen from my bedside table?” You asked him, knowing your cramps would only worsen throughout the day.

 

You decided to spend the day on the couch watching TV, your feet on Bucky’s lap as he mindlessly massaged them, and the pain was manageable, even allowing you to nap on and off, until around 3 p.m.

 

You were awakened by a sharp twang in your uterus, painful enough to make you bend yourself into a fetal position and your vision to go blank.

 

“Babe?” Bucky asked, worried.

 

You didn't want to trouble him any more than you already had, but the pain was winning over you.

 

“It fucking hurts,” You gritted through your teeth.

 

“C’mere, honey.” Bucky urged, worried as hell, and helped you sit up with your back to his chest. He then started to massage your lower belly, and the ache worsened at first, but soon enough it subsided to a dull pain, and you fell asleep again.

 

“So what usually helps ease your cramps?” Bucky asked when you woke up an hour later.

 

You didn't really want to say it, as you never got what you wanted anyway. But with Bucky being so helpful all day long and looking at you with his big blue eyes, you couldn't lie.

 

“Uhm. Orgasms.”

 

Bucky nodded very seriously, as if you'd just told him the name of an over-the-counter painkiller he'd have to run out and buy.

 

“That sounds easy enough, let's do it.”

 

If your jaw hadn't been attached to your skull, it would've clunked on the floor in front of you. Not only was he not making light of your pain like most did, but he was also offering to make you come to help you? Surely you were dreaming.

 

“How do you want to do it? Oral? Hands? Fully going for it?” He asked, so helpful and eager. It made your heart do a tiny flip in your chest.

 

You decided then to stop overthinking things and just accept what he was offering you.

 

“Actually, I like it better with a vibrator.”

 

Bucky nodded, and leaned into you for a sweet kiss that unhurriedly turned hungry. He was teasing you, nibbling on your lower lip for a second, moving over to nose at your jaw, and licking hot little stripes up your neck to that one spot under your ear that made you sigh.

 

His hands were busy in your hair, tucking it behind your ears and over your back to give him more room to work on, and whenever he ran one of them past your stomach, the touches turned sweet and soothing, a warm presence exactly where you'd put the hot water bottle before.

 

“Bedroom.” You whispered between kisses, getting up and not even bothering to turn the TV off.

 

Getting comfortable in bed, you reached for the bottom drawer where you kept your condoms, lube, and sex toys and chose your favorite bullet vibrator, handing it to your boyfriend.

 

You removed your pj pants as Bucky turned the small vibrator on, teasing you with it, running it over your thighs.

 

“Over or under this?” He asked, meaning your underwear. As you weren't really eager to have him see your tampon string hanging out—though if his actions had been any indication, he'd have no problem with it—you decided that over the panties was enough for that day.

 

“Over.”

 

“You got it.” He kissed you, and finally placed the bullet right over your clit, the vibrations reverberating deliciously to your thighs and lower abdomen, already easing some of the pain.

 

Bucky removed your T-shirt (that was actually his, but you'd stolen it) and rest his head in the crook of your neck, tucking one leg in between yours, and he'd breathe hard every now and then and gently rut against your thigh when you moaned.

 

His mouth didn't leave your body once, whether it was on your lips or your skin, and his little murmured encouragements were making you feel even more turned on.

 

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me, huh?” He asked, breath hot on your neck. “You gonna come for me?”

 

It always hit you so hard when he told you to come, and as you felt your entire body tense up, your hand wrapped around his wrist, signaling him not to move away.

 

He didn't. Instead, he started moving the vibrator in tiny little circles right on your clit, increasing the pressure.

 

Your hips had been moving along with his rhythm since the beginning, but now you actually had your feet planted on the mattress to really thrust up into his hand, chasing the sensation.

 

“Yes, yes, yes…” You chanted, and your orgasm finally hit you, and hard. You almost missed the pornographic moan coming from Bucky’s mouth when your thighs closed tight around his hand, but you caught just enough for it to make the hairs at the back of your neck stand up.

 

Bucky kissed you through it, swallowing your moans.

 

“Want me to stop?” He asked, moving the bullet to your thigh, lest it hurt you in the over sensitivity of the post-orgasm.

 

“No.” You answered, surprising yourself. “I want more.”

 

And so Bucky went to work again, going back to being soft and slow, building your arousal back up, but it didn't take long like in the beginning. A couple of kisses and a minute later, you were already panting.

 

“Take it off,” You breathed as the bullet touched your sensitive clit. Bucky obliged, and you lied bare in front of him, legs spread wantonly, not caring at all about what Bucky could see or not. And, judging by his pupil-blown eyes and the grip his teeth had on his bottom lip, he couldn't care less about it, either.

 

He moved to sit on his heels between your legs, and placed the vibrator right over your entrance, gathering up the slick there before going to your clit, around it a couple times, then back on it again and to your entrance. He kept up this pace until you were writhing in bed, body begging for another release.

 

Bucky lowered his head and kissed at your thighs, stopping to suck a hickey here and there, the thought of love bites in a place only he got to see making his head spin.

 

“Babe, don't stop, I'm gonna come, don't stop, don't stop, fuck,” You moaned, and as soon as you did, your second orgasm shot through you, twice as intense as the previous one. You couldn't keep quiet if you wanted to, your voice came out foreign to your own ears, caught between desperate moans, curses, and Bucky’s name. Your body tensed all over, hands gripping the pillows above you, legs shut, hip in the air, head pressed back on the mattress.

 

When you finally came down a minute later, you felt Bucky cleaning you up with a warm washcloth, and you made grabby hands at him, wanting him close.

 

“Let me help you finish,” You said, hands moving to the waistband of his sweatpants, but he laughed and shooed you off.

 

“You were really out of it, huh?” He giggled. You knit your eyebrows in confusion and he explained himself.

 

“I did finish. On your tits. That's why I'm cleaning you up, I made a bit of a mess.”

 

That led you and Bucky into a laughing fit, and your day ended the way it'd started, with your tummy hurting, but this time it was from laughter. And that was an ache you didn't mind feeling.

**Author's Note:**

> please give kudos, comment, and come hang out with me on [tumblr](http://tjhcmmond.tumblr.com)!


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